Kitt

“You’re pretty,” he said. His breath smelled like onions and seven other things. I kept my eyes straight ahead. I wasn’t here. This wasn’t happening.

I sat on a kitchen chair, gripping the sides of it. They hadn’t tied me up. They hadn’t blindfolded me. But the cold steel of the Nine the ugly one carried still left an indentation under my rib cage.

There were three of them. They called the ugly one Kick. He had a deep, purple scar running down the side of his face. A knife wound, maybe. Or a piece of glass. The other two were called Fletch and Paco. Paco seemed to be in charge. He mostly paced in the front room, his cell phone pressed to his ear.

Fletch sat on the other side of the kitchen table, leaning casually against the wall. He was entertained watching Kick try to rattle me.

“You gotta give me a game plan, man,” Paco said. He was agitated. He had long, greasy black hair that he wore loose. According to his patch, he was just a regular member of the Hellz Rebels Albuquerque charter. The other two were prospects. I knew in my heart that made things even more dangerous for me. One of them might do something stupid to try and make a name for himself.

Paco clicked off the phone and came back into the kitchen. “You hungry?” he said to me.

I kept my eyes straight ahead. I hadn’t said a word to any of them since they forced me into the back of their van and drove away from the Hansen. I tried to fight. I kicked. I never got to scream. Fletch was ready with a filthy rag. He stuffed it in my mouth. Paco took it away. He knew the gun in my ribs was all he’d need to get me to go quietly.

“You find anything?” Kick asked. Before his phone call, Paco had been rifling through my one suitcase. That, almost as much as the gun, had been the reason I kept my mouth shut when they forced me to leave my hotel room. I thought if they left the suitcase behind, it would be safer. But Paco grabbed it at the last second.

He had my wallet on the table. He took a seat, straddling it backward. He rifled through the contents like playing cards. “Katrina Holly,” he said. “Whatchu doing so far away from Kansas, little girl?”

I bit my lip. The less I gave him, the better.

“Manny seen her at the garage,” Fletch offered. “She’s been working there a couple of weeks now.”

“Switch get you the job?” Paco asked. “You give good ... interview, sweetheart?”

I wanted to tell him to go to hell. I wanted to spit in his face. I stared straight ahead, sweat beading my upper lip.

“You made a mistake,” Paco said. “You shoulda asked around. The Wolves don’t got a single bitch working for them after the club burned down. Girls with good sense know to stay the hell away. Why didn’t you?”

“She’s new in town,” Fletch said. “Long way from Kansas, sister.”

Kick was getting antsy. It was his turn to pace. He started rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. It was a small ranch house just outside of Green Bluff, secluded on a wooded lot. From the mess they’d left, it looked like these three had been staying here a week or more and doing a shit job cleaning up after themselves.

“I’m gettin’ tired of this gig,” Kick said. “The Wolves are weak enough already. You saw how it was in town. The Wolves are running scared. They know their number is up. Green Bluff is ripe enough for the taking.”

Paco stopped flipping through my credit cards. “And I think you need to remember who’s wearing the patch. We move when I say we move. I don’t move until I get the order. You young guys think you know everything. You gotta pay your dues.”

Fletch got up. He went into the living room and tossed my suitcase upside down. If he looked hard enough, he’d find everything I brought concerning Sly.

“I’m just a secretary,” I said, trying to draw their attention away from my things. “You said yourself you’ve been watching the garage. I’m a temp. And yeah, you’re right about the club running scared. They told me two days ago not to come in anymore. They can’t afford to pay me.”

Paco smiled. “You’re smart. At least, you think you are. Don’t matter whether you answer phones for the Wolves or not. Switch Madison seems to think you’re worth having around. Where were you going, honey?”

He pulled my phone out of his back pocket. He tried to open it. When that didn’t work, he flicked his eyes to Fletch and Kick. Sensing his play, I pushed back, trying to vault out of the chair. Kick had me by the shoulders, driving me back down into my seat. Fletch grabbed my right hand and pushed it down on the table, forcing my fingers to splay. Paco pulled my index finger and pressed it on the home button of the phone, unlocking it.

“Better calm down, honey,” he said. “Don’t need that finger attached to you to get what I want.”

He whistled as he started going through my messages. My blood turned to acid as he settled on something that made him smile.

“Alameda, huh? Switch was in a big hurry to get you out of town, honey. Things go sour? Or maybe you’re too valuable to him to keep close. He’s smart. But not quick, eh?”

“Fuck you.”

Paco got up. He stood over me. He took a knife out of his pocket and ran the flat edge of the blade along my jaw. “I said you’re pretty. You don’t have to stay that way.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I’d been here before. Scared. Alone. All at once, I was back in the bad house on Canyon Drive and I was eleven years old. I tried to hide in the back of the closet until all the yelling stopped. It never worked. They always found me.

I opened my eyes. “I think you’re the one who’s scared. You and your club can’t figure out how to take out the Wolves head-on. So you’re trying to what ... pick off people close to them? Then what? You don’t know Green Bluff. Your prez—what did you call him, Manny—does he think it’s going to be easy to just slip right in and take over the town? I haven’t been here that long, but I know the town will fight back.”

Paco smiled. He moved away from me and sat back down. “Nah. We’re doing just fine keeping those dogs chasing their tails.”

He took my phone and slid it across the table to me. “Pick it up, honey,” he said. “Time for your one phone call.”

My heart raced.

“I’m not helping you,” I said.

“You’re nothing,” Paco said. “You think I care about some secretary Switch is banging? You’re pretty. But you ain’t special. But I wanna talk to him. He gave you a number to call in that last text. Let’s see if he answers.”

Paco leaned over and pulled up my messages. He tapped the number Switch texted me and put the phone on speaker. It rang twice, but nobody answered.

“Sorry,” I said. “Your plan’s not so foolproof after all, Paco.”

His eyes flashed with anger, but he kept his cool. My mind started to spin.

“Paco, take a look at this,” Fletch called from the other room. It was just an instant. But it was enough. While Paco turned his head, I silenced the phone and hit my redial button. I put the phone face down so Paco couldn’t see it was dialing.

Fletch came to the kitchen holding the file folder I’d stuffed into the side pocket of my suitcase. The bottom dropped out of my stomach. I had a precious few minutes. I just prayed the call went through and it made enough sense to the person on the other end to do me some good.

“She’s got a ton of shit in here about Sly,” Fletch said. Paco turned his chair. With the phone on its face, I couldn’t tell if the call went through.

“Are you planning to let me go anytime soon?” I asked. “You’re not doing yourself any favors pissing Sly or the club off keeping me here.” I raised my voice but tried not to be obvious about it. With the phone silenced, I just hoped Paulie could hear enough to piece something together.

Paco took the envelope from Fletch and looked at the contents. I was pouring sweat now. Paco cocked his head to the side as he read the documents. His eyes flashed and his smile widened.

“You gotta be shitting me,” he said. “Is that what you’re doing here?”

“What the fuck is all that?” Fletch asked.

But Paco had the letter from Catholic Services. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me. He saw the same thing Switch had the other night when he found the same evidence.

“Well, aren’t you just Daddy’s little girl,” Paco said.

All at once, things got far, far worse for me.

“What the fuck, Paco?” Kick said.

“Well,” Paco answered. “Darcy’s girl. You look a little like her.”

It felt like all the blood drained from my head. Paco read my birth certificate. He saw my mother’s name on the letters. “Get Manny on the phone,” he said.

A moment later, Kick handed him his cell phone. Paco stared straight at me. “Hey, Prez. I got a little surprise for you. You remember all that shit Darcy Palmer told you way back? Turns out she was telling the truth. I’m looking at the proof right here.”